The Concealed Identity
by LoneDaydream
Summary: Alex Rider is a druggie and delinquent. That's what his teachers and peers think. In reality, he can be a cold and unforgiving agent. His skills have taken him far as a spy for MI6. One average afternoon an attack is carried out at Brooklands High School, leaving the fate of his classmates up to him. May contain slight Alex/Wolf, but it will not be a focal point of the story.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Alex Rider and characters belong to none other than Anthony Horowitz, This story is a work of fiction with no intent to claim ownership of any of the characters in the Alex Rider Series.

Author's Note: This prologue has been edited slightly, with the major details being changed to reflect more current events in American schools. As I am American, please tell me if there is anything I can do to properly reflect British schooling, thanks :)

A dull voice sounded in the classroom. An average Tuesday in Brookland Comprehensive High school. It was sixth period, directly after lunch. All over the building, the students were still riled up after their short lunch period. Students tried (and failed) to sneakily eat the remnants of their lunch, Teachers around the building scolded their hyper active and talkative students. Unlike his peers, Alex Rider sat at full attention in his seat in Honors Biology. His classroom stood in the corner of the building, Room C210.

His eyes were unfocused, face pointed at the board, but his ears were not listening to the teacher drone on and on about the nitrogen cycle: how it affects multiple ecosystems and organisms. His mind was drawn to more important topics: The disaster that was his most recent mission. It had started out simple, infiltrate a growing drug ring targeting teens and children as dealers and runners. Easy enough.

The first three weeks were routine as he slowly gained the trust of the thugs in charge. The following weeks was when the shit began to hit the fan, metaphorically speaking. His cover was slowly chipped away as the overseers of the operations grew skeptical of his identity. Alex was somewhat healthy, whereas the rest of the children they employed were scrappy and beaten down. Most were homeless, and they looked (and smelled) like it.

Alex on the other hand, despite his masterful acting, was exposed when one of his colored contacts had fallen out in the middle of a deal. The ever paranoid ringleader panicked and ordered his men to "get rid of the evidence".

Meaning, most of his dealers, the large amount of children aged 6-18 were "dealt with". Alex had left the base with his hands stained with the blood of innocent children, and the men who killed them. The whole operation was a few of the runners survived, but around 80% were eliminated. Blunt wasn't overjoyed with the fact that Alex had allowed the ringleader to escape, but his work overall did allow MI6 to keep tabs on him. Despite his would-be failure, Alex was successful in taking down the drug ring. He killed most of the ringleader's staff, but left a few alive for information gathering and job, begrudgingly taken, was over.

He was snapped out of his internal monologue by his teacher's monotone voice.

"Mr. Rider, since you are so _intently_ paying attention, could you please tell me the use of nitrogen in the human body?"

Alex paused for a fraction of a second, pulling the information to the front of his mind. "Nitrogen is in amino acids, which help create proteins and make up the DNA in the body." He supplied a somewhat dumbed down definition, but he wasn't too interested in the nitrogen cycle currently. He already knew the material for this unit, and the next four, by heart.

Satisfied that Alex knew at least a bit of what he was teaching, Mr. Allen turned his attention back to the board. Alex was in no way an imbecile, his main problem lay in his frequent and lengthy absences. He would return after multiple days or weeks, battered and bruised, looking more and more exhausted after each period. After each absence, he would seem less and less like the cheerful boy he was in the beginning of his freshman year.

His eyes were dark, cold and calculating. His posture was tense and lax at the same time, a coiled spring. Whenever Alex entered the room, his eyes flashed over everything, taking in minute details.

With his absences Alex Rider had a particular knack for attracting rumors among students and staff alike. Drugs said some, while others protested he was too smart for that. Abuse said others, yet he was an orphan with a close relationship with his loving guardian Jack Starbright. Trouble with the law, gangs, and all sorts of wild speculations were whispered around him.

Alex sighed once more as he failed to understand the relevance of the lesson. His education was greatly furthered by MI6, and his own attraction to knowledge. With his rigorous self studying habits, Alex could have been taking his A-levels in his third year. Yet he was stuck in year ten, with the rest of his age group.

Drawing his attention back to the board, Alex tried his best to pay attention to his somewhat boring, early thirties teacher. He had been failing at staring at the board when he flicked his eyes out the window. A black van had pulled up to the building without his notice. Not a good sign, if his instincts had any input. Alex lifted himself up, as if to alert his teacher when the sounds of muffled pops resounded through the building. Seemingly everyone froze, excluding Alex. Fifty seconds later, Mr. Allen and several other students remembered their shooting protocol and rushed to the door. Securing the specialty door stop, locking the door, and turning off the lights, the rooms inhabitants retreated to the back corner of the room in petrified silence.

Two minutes later loud footsteps down the hallway broke the stunned quiet. Muffled sobs and whispers were cut off as a hand jiggled the locked door knob. Faint murmuring was heard through the wood door, and as soon as it started, it stopped. The students hear metal clanking. Then came the crash. Oak splintered as some sort of battering ram was thrown into the doorknob and jamb. The cracking continued until the tip of a crowbar was visible in the gap.

With seemingly inhuman strength, the door was wrenched open. The security door stopper was smashed and three men in dark tactical gear strode into the biology classroom. Each brandishing a semi automatic machine gun.


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Alex Rider and characters belong to none other than Anthony Horowitz, This story is a work of fiction with no intent to claim ownership of any of the characters in the Alex Rider Series.

Author's Note: This is the (edited) first chapter! Hope you all enjoyed the (edited) prologue, I forgot to add an author's note. Oops. hope you enjoy this chapter. Please follow or review :) I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO UPDATE! Special thanks to those who still follow this despite no updates!

A shit ton of awful stuff has happened in the last year or so, as my Mother has passed away in early January due to fighting brain cancer for the last 17 years. Among other things though, I am finally on medication for depression, and it has drastically changed my mood. I am finally wanting to write again after so long! So please be patient with me as I will most definitely be

Sporadic.

Several screams were cut off as the students were frozen on the spot. Hidden in the huddle of students, Alex was internally cursing Alan Blunt and every goddamn agent at MI6. He loathed MI6 simply for existing, and for being so entangled with his life.

He peeked out at the men before him, as only a few seconds had ticked by since they entered the room. He needed to grasp the situation as soon as possible. Alex scanned over them quickly, all three were muscular and somewhat tall. Each wore a black, standard combat outfit, with a padded vest, combat boots and several deadly weapons strapped to the occasional arm or leg. There was no insignia on their clothing, so there was no way of identifying them. They could be any one of his enemies, the list of whom was too long to count. but he could tell right away they were less than friendly.

The spy put on a terrified face before he glanced at the mercenaries. The man closest to the door had short salt and pepper hair, clearly the veteran in the group, as well as the leader. He gave off waves of power and respect, very similar to many of the SAS soldiers Alex occasionally worked with. The man in the middle was probably the second in ranking, the teen could tell he was experienced, even with his short stature he seemed no less dangerous. The short man had dark hair and cold pea-green eyes. The last soldier was the youngest, most likely an inexperienced greenhorn. Unlike the others, his pale blue eyes were uncertain and his posture was not completely rigid. He was nervous and small drops of sweat were running down from his light brown hair.

Alex watched the leader murmur to the others before speaking.

"All of you. Stay where you are." he paused, "You will not speak, if you need to use the bathroom, hold it. I'm sure you little maggots can manage."

The whole class just stared at him unblinkingly, some thought he was joking. Most of them still had no idea what was going on. Alex recognized that the time to act was near. The longer the hostage situation continued, the less likely he was able to diffuse the situation. He glanced down at his ankle, where he had his M16 issued handgun in a sheath. MI6 had finally allowed him to carry a firearm after a mission wherein he had to incapacitate four soldiers with a pen. It gave his great ease to have his own firepower, as he usually was faced with higher caliber (and much larger, deadlier) guns with no real weapons of his own.

He also carried two tactical knives in sheaths on his person, one on his alternate ankle, the other on his hip. Alex was planning his next moves when the leader spoke again, this time focusing his eyes the crowd. Mr. Allen, who was shielding several students with his body became the center of the soldier's attention

"You're coming with me!" he growled, striding forward and grabbing onto the front of the frightened teacher's shirt. Mr. Allen struggled somewhat at the force.

The man growled, pulling Mr. Allen forward, who then promptly stumbled and almost tripped. The middle soldier let out a small laugh. As their teacher joined the three men at the front of the class, Alex had finally decided on his plan. He started by gradually quickening his breathing. Trying to seem as though he was having trouble. Alex slowly made his way through the huddled students, catching some of their attention.

"Help me" he whispered to his peers. Who stared at him for a moment, confused. Suddenly He was on his knees, gasping for air and shaking like a leaf. He was having a panic attack.

By now he had the attention of the entire room, eyes filled with fear tore themselves away from the soldiers, and onto Alex. He gasped and weakly glanced in the direction of the men in the front.

"Please" he wheezed, "Let me get my inhaler" He huffed, his breathing was erratic and his chest was heaving.

, despite the gun trained on him, cut in, begging the men at the front of the room.

"Please. The boy has severe asthma and many other breathing problems, If he doesn't receive his medication soon, he could stop breathing altogether." He pleaded, his eyes glistening with tears.

The mercenaries just stared at him, the two most experienced soldiers with no emotion, seemingly uncaring, while the greenhorn looked at the blond with slight concern. Alex's classmates were staring at him, most were confused and others surprised. A few students in particular were the main source of rumors about the teen. Rumors that spread like wildfire. Many were surprised, Rider seemed to be as sickly as his doctor's notes claimed.

"I couldn't care less" The leader announced,

Alex tore his eyes away from him, focusing on the concerned trainee. He was basing his whole plan on the actions of the youngest soldier, _so this better work_ , he thought. The man stared at him, till he broke his eyes away.

"Lewis, with all due respect, He isn't a threat. Just look at him. Let him have his medicine and we won't have to worry about a dead kid." The soldier reasoned, The group glanced at Alex, who was pitifully gasping on the floor. His face was pale and he had tears in his eyes, every breath he took ended with a strained wheeze. The leader, Lewis, scoffed at the struggling teen who looked absolutely pathetic.

"Fine. Myers, watch him." He glared at Alex's prone form

Get your bag, take your medicine." Lewis grumbled. Myers, the shorter soldier with dark hair and green eyes stepped forward.

"Which bag?" He grunted, the blond gestured to his green bag in the forth isle of desks from the door. Myers drew close and grabbed Alex by the arm, marching him to his backpack. He promptly dropped the noodle-armed Alex. who was surrounded by some of his classmates.

While Alex was crouched and fumbling through his folders and books, the soldier made a grave mistake. He had stopped watching the teen and was now staring down the rest of the class. Daring them to pull something. A few beads of sweat rolled down his face. He had to move as quickly as possible, before the soldier could notice he had no inhaler. Hidden from the view of the other soldiers, Alex reached down to his calf and unlatched his handgun.

In a fraction of a second, the spy drew out his silenced firearm and shot Myers from below, sending a bullet up into his head. The bullet entered the underside of his chin, sending his head flying back.

Before the body even hit the ground, Alex slid to forward, sending his body further away from the huddled group of kids. Without hesitation, He shot Lewis in the head and sent a shot into the right shoulder of the youngest soldier. He quickly sprinted towards the last standing man, who was clearly in shock. The blond slammed him against the wall and ripped the gun out of his hands.

As the actions of their classmate caught up with them, the majority of the students yelped at the sudden bloodshed. One student fainted. Many were too scared to speak, let alone scream. The dead body of Myers was on the floor, with a widening halo of blood around his dark hair. His blood was splattered against the student desks, half-hearted notes splashed in red.

When the class lifted their eyes from the dead man, they took in a sight they could have never imagined. Alex Rider, the boy with frequent absences and hundreds of excuses was kneeling on top of the last soldier. The man's gun was off to the side, away from reach. His face was emotionless as he held the trainee's arms together behind his back. The leader's' body was splayed out near Mr. Allen, who hadn't moved. Alex could see his face held splattered droplets of blood. Like Myers, Lewis' blood pooled around his salt and pepper hair. A small hole in between his eyes.

The class gaped at him. Alex Rider who was supposedly sickly and depressed from his uncle's death. Alex Rider who was the subject of whispers and Rider, who missed more days of school than he attended. Alex Rider, the boy who just killed two men, and was currently pinning another to the floor.

Mr. Allen was the first to speak.

"Alex. What . . . What are you doing?" he asked, his voice shook and his eyes were wide.

The blond''s head lifted to meet his eyes. His cold brown eyes bored holes into the teacher's head. He was silent, calculating, as though he was trying to plan out his next words.

"Just taking care of the problem sir," he responded, his voice devoid of emotion. "I wanted to move quickly before anyone could get hurt." He stated. Mr. Allen just gaped at him. His tone was cold and mechanical, he described killing two men as if he just grabbed the mail. One of the kids spoke up, a blonde girl from the back of the room.

"What just happened? Rider, how did you do that?" she questioned, the boy who stood next to her cut in.

"Holy shit. I mean, seriously. What Amanda said" he gestured to the blonde girl, "How did you do that man?"

Snapped out of their shock, all of the students started talking at once.

"Where did you get a gun?!" one demanded,

"DID YOU SEE THAT? HE SHOT THAT DUDE IN THE FACE!" one girl whisper-shouted.

"Who even were those guys?" a red-haired boy muttered, but he was overshadowed by the rest of the frightened and outraged teens.

"What are we going to do now?" Amanda stammered,

"Oh my god. His blood is everywhere" one boy squeaked.

"What. The. Fuck." another girl sputtered.

"Mr. Allen what are we going to do!?" a panicked voice resounded through the chatter

They all looked to Alex, who was silent in the storm of questions. His eyes gave nothing away. He was still kneeling on the soldier's back. He spoke up, just loud enough that everyone could hear him.

"Someone get me some rope, or cloth or anything to keep him tied up. Some material to gag him too," the blond inquired, causing the class to stare at him.

Mr. Allen reluctantly walked to the supply closet at the back of the room, stepping over the bloody corpses as he went. He returned two minutes later holding an extension cord and a clean rag. He nodded at his teacher when he was handed the requested items. All eyes were on Alex as he tied up the silent man. The cord around his wrists was tied tight, cutting into the skin. He stuffed the gag into the soldier's mouth, effectively stopping any form of communication.

Ignoring the looks from his peers, the blond teen lifted the bound man and pushed him against the wall.

"What are you going to do to him?" a brown haired boy questioned, and the rest of the students straightened, hoping that Alex would answer. They desperately wanted to know too.

"I'm going to interrogate him." He stated, "There must be something I can get out of him."

The students were somewhat puzzled on how he was going to do so, until Alex pulled a serrated, 8-inch tactical knife from his hip.

"If you're squeamish, I suggest you close your eyes" the blond announced.

The teen spy locked eyes with the bound mercenary. Focused brown stared into hazy blue. His uniform tag read Grady.

"All right Grady, I will ungag you only if you will cooperate. If you don't, well you will be leaving here with a few more broken appendages than you started with" Alex's voice rung out, cold yet quiet. Whispered just loud enough to hear, but deadly serious.

Finally realizing his mistake to pity Alex, Grady defiantly stared back the blond and turned his head. Making clear signs that he wouldn't talk. Despite having little hands-on experience, the bound man knew what happened to those who snitched. The punishment for that was worse than getting a few bruises...

Acknowledging his resistance, The teen looked too the defiant Grady. Alex promptly stood and swiftly nailed a strong kick into the man's ribs. Everyone if the room could hear the audible crack that followed.

Grady cried out, noise muffled behind the gag. Still, with no response, Alex Alex lashed out, slamming his knife into the man's side, causing him to gasp. Again no response, other than a cry of pain. For another attempt, the blond gripped the man's arm and bent it till it cracked.

The man was nearly sobbing now, but still resistant. Finally, the teen pushed his finger into the mercenaries' bullet wound. That finally elicited a scream from the mercenary, who finally nodded at Alex.

He was Ready to talk.


End file.
